


Seventeen

by ihearthings_ii



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 22:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihearthings_ii/pseuds/ihearthings_ii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is different than Dean was at seventeen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seventeen

When he was seventeen, Dean kept a Penthouse and a Playboy rolled up together and stuffed in a lonely old sock at the bottom of his duffle. Some of the pages were a bit sticky, smudged fingerprints on certain pictures, some had dog-ears and rips.

It's not like he had a lot of time alone with the girls, not really, because it required Sammy to be at school and Dad out on his own, without having asked Dean to run errands or research something, which was a rare thing indeed. Still, he snuck in enough quality time with them for it not to be useless carrying them around like that. At seventeen, he hadn't been quite as experienced as he'd pretended to be, and although he usually goes to a real girl instead of one in a magazine these days, there's still something excitingly illicit about glossy, rustling pages that gives him a little kick.

Which is why he can't stop himself, when he feels glossy paper underneath his fingertips as he's going through Sam's duffle for a clean shirt. He smirks. Sammy's been a pissy little bitch lately, growing pains and still tripping over everything and bumping into everything else, mouth perpetually set in a thin line. But even if Dad can't, Dean still remembers what seventeen was like, getting turned on by the wind blowing in the right direction and unable to really do anything about it. And they've moved around a lot lately, which suits Dean just fine, but Sam is into the whole 'get to know you' hoopla and probably doesn't get much relief beyond Rosie Palm.

He pulls the magazine out and wonders briefly at the feel of it, stiff pages - high quality. Of course, it figures that Sam can't just get any old nudie magazine, it has to be something fancy.

And then, oh. Oh.

Because it's not Naughty Nurses or Jugs or any of those things, and Dean sits down hard at the foot of the bed, letting go of the brochure like it burns his hands.

He picks it up, cautiously, as if it might bite him, and he sneers at himself. It's just a stupid college brochure. Probably something Sam picked up at a college fair because not picking something up would seem weird, not normal.

He absently licks at his index finger and opens the brochure. Lots of red and glossy pictures of students, laughing, lounging in libraries, in class. There's smudged fingerprints on some of the pictures, the panorama view of the school, entrance to the library, and when Dean turns another page, there's a neat black ballpoint pen line underneath the word Pre-Law. Dread fills his stomach, but he can't stop turning the pages, the one with the athletics program dog-eared and another neat line under Track &amp; Field. Sam, the freak, probably uses a ruler when he underlines things. The Admission pages have several things underlined and a red circle around a toll-free number in the Financial Aid section.

When he reaches the last pages, a few pieces of paper fall into his lap, along with several envelopes. One of the papers has information about student housing in Palo Alto, another, more information about Financial Aid.

The envelopes all have official stamps and are filled with To Whom It May Concern letters, letters praising Sam and his studiousness, his grades; official transcripts from a dozen schools, congratulatory letters about Honour Roll admissions.

And Dean knows. Of course he knows. Sam's not happy. He hasn't been happy, for quite a while. The moving around, the hunting, Dad. And yet, Dean hadn't quite expected this.

The shower turns off, and Dean puts all the papers and envelopes back in the brochure, carefully puts the brochure back in Sam's duffle, blindly reaches for one of Sam's clean shirts, picks up his wet towel.

Dad. He needs to talk to Dad. He can convince Dad to have a headquarters somewhere, a home base somewhere that's not Pastor Jim's. Somewhere Sam can go to school for more than two months. Somewhere Sam can invite girls over so they can study or whatever Sam would think would be interesting to do with a girl. He can talk Dad into that. He has to. If he does, surely, Sam won't do this. He wouldn't.


End file.
